


We Make a Little History Baby (Every Time You Come Around)

by girl0nfire, saturnmeetsmercury (jarofhearts)



Series: I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat on your skin [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes as Captain America, Domestic Bliss, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Masturbation, Teasing, Uniform Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 04:18:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5077513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girl0nfire/pseuds/girl0nfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jarofhearts/pseuds/saturnmeetsmercury
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wednesday: Superhero Kink</p><p>Natasha catches sight of him in their hall, bent down to undo his boots, and she leans against the doorway to their living room, the corners of her mouth curled up as she watches him.<br/>“Hey, soldier boy.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Make a Little History Baby (Every Time You Come Around)

_August 2017_

 

Natasha is home already from her mission with Clint, some easy taking out of a drug lord that has made himself way too comfortable over in Atlanta. She has showered, towel dried and combed out her hair, and has laughed at the way Liho, their small impatient ball of black fur, wound his way through her legs over and over, meowing at her.

She has taken one of James’ t-shirts - the soft, navy blue, comfortable one - her pair of grey overknees, has grabbed her Avengers communicator, finally scoops Liho up in her arms, and makes herself comfortable on the couch.

James is still out with Sam on a mission of their own, just some routine surveillance. As per mutual agreement in their whole team, the communication channel always stays off for everyone not involved, but Natasha opens the line where she can listen in, to see how everything is going on their end, get an idea how long it’s still going to take.

It's mostly usual mission chatter, Steve calling out patterns in the people who leave and exit the building they're watching, Sam cracking jokes, James only cutting in here and there to laugh or add a joke of his own. Natasha can tell by the long lapses of silence that the nightclub they're watching must be busy, and they're all concentrating on watching the exits, trying to see if their mark shows up on time for the third night in a row or not. Easy.

"He's really gonna show up to the club like that?" There's a derisive laugh in Sam's voice, almost drowning out Steve's.

“Got him -”

"Could set your watch by this idiot," James adds, and Sam laughs again.

"You still pulling your turns of phrase outta 1945? Really?"

“Can it!” Steve and James say at once, and Sam all but chokes himself laughing.

"Alright fellas, pack it in, I think we're good to go," Steve says pointedly, cutting off another snort of laughter from Sam.

"Yes, sir," comes Sam's reply, along with a vague whooshing sound Natasha's come to associate with the sound of Sam taking off, filtered through the comm line.

“G'night, Steve -” Another sound, metallic, unmistakably James fitting the shield onto his back. One that never fails to bring a smile to Natasha's face, because she can imagine the look he always makes when he does it, just that tiny bit of awe. "Get home to your girl, don't sleep at that desk, idiot."

"Take your own advice, Barnes, and stop telling me how to run my ops." There's a smile in Steve's voice, always is when they're teasing each other. "G'night, Buck."

"Night, Steve."

Another sound, a faint click, letting Natasha know that Steve's off the line.

"Talia? You awake?" She can hear James' voice echoing a bit, probably in a stairwell. "Be home soon, I promise." Natasha can't help but smile. "I love you." Another click, and then silence.

“Heard that?” she asks Liho, stroking her fingers through the fur at the nape of his neck. “Maybe we should give him a nice welcome…”

Natasha presses a kiss to the kitten’s head and then shoos him off her lap. There are several things she has in mind, and she takes a couple of moments to decide what exactly she wants to do, her lip caught between her teeth still around that smile that hasn’t left her, his voice still in her ear.

Oh, his voice.

That he does this sometimes, talks to her, drops her a line even though he can’t know at all if she’s there to listen in on their chatter in that moment, that makes her heart soar.

The way his voice sounds over the line, right in her ear, sends a pleasant, wonderful little shiver through her.

She has twenty, maybe thirty minutes. Better put them to good use.

Natasha vanishes in the kitchen for ten of them, communicator switched off, but then ends up back on the couch, making herself comfortable by reclining back against the arm. All the while James' voice has been echoing in her mind, and she has pictured him, smiling affectionately even though he can't see her, hurrying on his way home to her, all done up in his uniform…

It’s done more than enough to make her hands start to wander the moment she sits down, teasing herself with soft little touches, thinking of the stretch of his back through the fabric, how well it fits his body, how handsome he looks. The symbolism isn't lost on her, and she knows he feels sometimes like he hasn't quite earned it, but watching him grow into the space that Steve had left him (and they’re both so glad Steve’s back, no matter the crazy explanation of how he wasn’t _actually_ dead, so relieved, so happy), watching others learn just how strong and capable she's always known he is…

She loves all of that, but she'd be lying if she didn't admit how much she likes watching him in the uniform. Purely aesthetics, all heroism aside, it's just a damn good -

One of her hands makes its way between her legs, and she's just begun stroking lazily at herself, soft, tiny sounds accompanying the touches. When she finally hears the clatter of keys in the front door, her smile widens, and she pushes her hips up, reaches to pull her panties down her legs and let them fall to the floor before she gets to her feet.

His t-shirt is long enough - just long enough - to cover her. Natasha catches sight of him in their hall, bent down to undo his boots, and she leans against the doorway to their living room, the corners of her mouth curled up as she watches him.

“Hey, soldier boy.”

“You’re still up?” He’s focused on tugging off his boots, lifting the shield off his back to rest by the door before he looks up at her, a rather smitten-looking grin dawning on his face as his eyes travel up her body. Natasha loves that, loves how open he is with her, how easy it is to tell when she’s done something - or _wears_ something - he likes.

“Wow, hi -” James shucks off his gloves, leaving them on the sideboard near the door where they usually rest their keys, and crosses to her in a few short steps, his hands immediately settling to rest on her hips.

He’s so easy, that way. It’s adorable.

“Hi,” she smiles back, relaxed and unrestrained, just in that state where her body’s brimming happily, from what she did before, and just from his presence. Natasha tilts her head up, kisses the corner of his mouth like a small tease, her hands sliding onto his shoulders. “Welcome home.”

And like she expected, he pulls her into a kiss, a real one, lasting just a bit longer than usual but still very fond. Sweet.

“Missed you.”

She knows he does, just like it’s the same for her. But him saying it is something precious, has always been.

Natasha smiles against his lips and reaches up to wrap both arms around his neck, unabashedly having their bodies touch. She can feel the rough fabric of his uniform through the worn shirt she’s wearing, and it sends a new, small shudder through her.

“I heard you,” she says, biting down affectionately on his lower lip.

James grins at her again, clever and sharper this time, letting his hands travel down her sides slowly.

“Then you know how bored we were.” His hands slip under the hem of the shirt she’s wearing, and she watches his eyes darken when his fingertips stroke over her hips, catching on. “Guess you missed me more -”

“I might have…”

She moves her hips against his hands with a small, subtle roll, tilting her head to the side and smirking at him.

“Have I told you yet how good you look in this?”

He huffs out a laugh, dragging his hand down his face.

“What am I gonna do with you?” he says against her cheek, nosing at her jaw gently. His hands come to wrap around her hips again, walking them both back into the living room. “And maybe once or twice, yeah -”

“Really? Mmmhh…” Natasha lets him lead them, walking backwards to wherever he wants to go. She wants to touch him, wants to run her hands over his chest, over the white star sitting in the middle of it. “I don’t know, might have to do it again.”

“I don’t mind,” he says before turning them around so he can sit down on their couch, pulling her into his lap. James slides his hands up her thighs, fingers lingering to stroke over the top edges of her socks. “I can keep myself occupied while you do -”

“Oh? With what, hm?” She smiles and moves in to let her lips wander slowly up his throat, over his jawline. It’s maybe, admittedly, a bit of a distraction, because her right hand is headed between her legs again, fingertips slowly stroking over the slick, sensitive skin.

He groans, his head falling to the side to give her a bit more room, his right hand trailing up her inner thigh.

“I’ll think of something.”

He slides a finger inside her without preamble, another rough sound leaving him when he finally realizes -

“ _Jesus_ , Tasha -”

“Right.” She laughs quietly, hips moving down against his hand, against her own, making her sigh despite the grin on her lips. “Got started already, I hope you don’t mind…”

James leans up again to nuzzle her neck, his left hand steadying her, resting gently on her hip, and then he crooks his finger carefully, pressing deeper inside. “Aw, and I thought this was all my doing -”

“It _was_ all your doing.” She gives him a look from under her lashes, tightening encouragingly around his finger. “I thought about your voice, all the time, about you -” And Natasha can’t help it, the grin spreading on her lips without her being able to stop it. “Getting home and fucking me with your uniform still on.”

Another finger slips inside her, a curse falling from James’ lips.

“Yeah?”

She can see the back of his neck flushing, hear the heat in his voice. Finally, James looks up at her, his lip caught between his teeth. He looks at her, amazed, and she _loves_ it when he does that.

He looks like he wants to say something, but thinks better of it, instead slipping his fingers from her body, batting her hand away, and nodding quickly, his hands flying to undo the belt of his uniform.

Natasha just smirks at him, very, so very satisfied, and she sits back on his thighs to give him more room, shaking her hair out behind her.

She really has thought about this for as long as she’s been here on that couch before he came home, and she can’t wait to have him, wants him _badly_. And at the same time, this is pure happiness, the anticipation, the heat of his eyes on her, and right now she loves that they’re both still wearing their clothes, not just him, even though it is that uniform, really, he looks gorgeous -

She can’t help but let out a small laugh when she sees him fumbling with the zipper of his pants, and she can see the thick outline of his erection, which can’t be making this any easier. Letting him struggle for just another moment, finally it’s Natasha’s turn to bat his hands away, easing down the zipper of his pants and palming him softly, fingers working his underwear out of the way slowly, teasingly, if only because he seems _so_ worked up already.

With her free hand she reaches for one of his, guiding it over his own shirt covering her until it's cupping her breast. And she moves over him, guides him until the head of his cock is nestled between her folds, circling her hips to take him deeper.

“ _God_ -” James’ left hand tightens on her hip, his own twitching up, grinding against her. “You feel -” He palms her breast for a moment before dropping his hand away, slipping beneath her shirt to slide over her skin instead, his thumb stroking over her nipple. “Hell of a - welcome home, huh -”

Natasha grins and arches against him until he's buried fully inside her and her hips are resting snugly on his. "What can I say… Been wanting to fuck Captain America for a long time, and the chance was finally just too good to pass up."

His hips buck up into her at that, a helpless sort of noise leaving him.

 _Interesting_.

“Well, _this one_ anyway, he’s _gorgeous_ -”

"Ah… and the other one isn't?"

She's teasing him, mercilessly, but he walked right into that one and she simply can't not. But she's already started to move, rolling her hips slowly, the simple pleasure of having him inside her already enough to make her mouth fall open silently.

“ _Damn_ -” James lets out a whine, snapping his hips up against hers, fingers pinching at her nipple by way of reply. “W-what, am I not doing a good enough job, you gotta think about -”

Oh God does she love him.

Natasha laughs, helplessly, breathlessly, and puts one hand on his shoulder to hold on as she tilts her whole body further back, makes the angle so, so good that a moan mixes into her laughter.

James speeds his hips then, teeth sinking into his lip again. He looks _beautiful_ , flushed and tense and _god_ , this was _such_ a good idea.

Natasha lets her hand fall down between her legs again, fingertips catching a bit of her wetness before she goes back to stroking herself in time with their movements, making the slide just perfect. Her breath is hitching again, and it's hard not to just let her eyes fall shut, but the sight of him is too tempting still, too beautiful.

So she decides she needs to try out what she picked up on earlier because, _God,_ yeah, she's that close already, her words a sigh.

" _So_ good to have you home, Captain."

And the effect is instantaneous, immediate -

James _growls_ , tugging her hips against his roughly, once, twice, and then he drops his head back, fingers spasming around her hips as he spills himself inside her.

" _Natalia_ -” He gasps out her name, helpless. But after a moment, his neck flushes darkly, and she can see the awareness dawning on his face. "Oh, God - I'm sorry -”

“Shut up,” she gasps out, eyes finally fluttering shut. It’s a good thing that she’s so close behind, because now it doesn’t take more than grinding her hips down hard on him, fingertips still stroking, and then she comes as well, a whimper spilling from her lips.

She really didn’t need more - this is just perfect.

James huffs out a hoarse laugh a few moments later, dropping his forehead against her chest.

"Didn't - didn’t realize that was a -”

“A thing?” Natasha finishes his sentence, still gasping for breath as she comes down, and then she just starts to laugh because she can’t hold it in, wrapping her arms affectionately around his neck. It’s ridiculous and adorable, and the most amusing thing she’s heard in a long time. He presses closer to her, his arms looping around her waist, holding her to him.

"Yeah, I -" Natasha can feel him grinning against her hair, his hips shifting gently. "You kinda sprung it on me, damn."

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she smiles and draws her head back enough to be able to look at him, tipping their foreheads together. “But it really is good to have you home.”

"You're evil," he chuckles, tipping his face up to kiss her. "But s’good to have you to come home to."

Natasha hums quietly and lets them both get lost in the kiss for a while, a tender, slow caress, very different from the urgency of before. It’s the quiet, effortless happiness of completion, of something they’ve struggled to find again during the past year that Steve was gone.

Eventually it wears off, and she flicks her hair back over her shoulder and grins at him. “Now, what do you want first? A shower or some sandwich fingers?”

The way he looks at her, like she's the first and only beautiful thing he's ever seen?

She adores that. Adores _him_.

"Oh, man -” His hands slide over her thighs, slowly, accompanied by a small, teasing roll of his hips. "How'd I get so lucky, with you?"

She twitches a little, inevitably, and it brings a smirk to her lips that softens quickly. Natasha leans towards him and angles herself to reach his ear, biting down softly on his earlobe before she offers, “Maybe you’ve been a really good boy.”

And he deserves all the happiness in the world, as far as Natasha is concerned.

"Jesus -" She can feel him shivering against her, his hips rocking up again, and she raises her eyebrows at him.

“Do I need to add a third option for what you want next?”

"Am I not being obvious enough?" James punctuates his words with another roll of his hips, his right hand slipping between them, fingertips stroking at her clit gently. "Gotta do better than that last one."

She lets out a soft, strangled sound, but she’s not at all surprised. “Good thing you still have the refractory period of a teenager, hm?”

James doesn't reply, just grins brilliantly at her, and before she knows it he's pushed them up, flipping them until she's settled back on the couch and he's moving over her. He hooks his left arm under her knee, spreading her thighs for him, and starts thrusting deeply into her in earnest. His smile fills her vision when he leans close, pressing kisses to her jaw, and Natasha just lets herself melt beneath him.

“Do what I can to keep my best girl happy, yeah -”

Natasha relaxes completely into the couch cushions, a smile on her lips. She’s done her part and knew that he’d want to take over this time, and she’s very, very happy to let him. This one, she knows, is also going to last much longer than the one before, and she can’t say she isn’t looking forward to it.

Grinning up at him, loving and mischievous, she reaches up to stretch her arms overhead and arch for him. “But you still had to _ask_ about how good of a job you’re doing just because I said Steve is _cute…_ ”

His lips find her neck, sucking a bruise over her pulse, but Natasha can still see the back of his neck flushing over the collar of his uniform. She can't help teasing him, especially now, knowing all she'll do is earn herself an even better time.

"And yet you're _still talking about it_ ," he huffs against her throat, easing her knee over his left shoulder and pressing in deeper, slowing this thrusts to a languid, lazy pace.

Drawing it out.

James nips at the fabric covering her collarbone. "Take this off."

“ _You_ take it off,” she shoots back immediately, and not just because he’s actually in a better position to do so.

<"Bossy, Natalia,"> he grins at her, heated and sharp, and then his left hand snaps out to push her shirt up, leaving it tangled around her arms. "It's almost like I didn't fuck you once already." Another long, easy roll of his hips, his teeth set into her shoulder. Teasing. "Not good enough?"

“Am I complaining?” She pulls the shirt a little higher, but once it’s reached her wrists and hands Natasha leaves it where it is. It’s warm and soft and _his_ , and she wants to hold on to it. “Socks too…?”

“Nuh uh - no way -” James shakes his head, turning it to press a kiss to the inside of her knee where it's still hooked over his shoulder. "These stay on."

Natasha grins to herself, not surprised at all. He has such a weakness for them, and it doesn’t seem like it will ever let up. “Copy that, Captain.”

“Oh, _come on_ -” He groans, his hips grinding down against hers. Slowly, he builds a rhythm again, angling each thrust to stroke deeply inside her, just the way he knows she likes. His right hand trails up her arm, slowly, tangling in the shirt, fingers spanning her wrists loosely.  “Could just say you wanted it harder, instead of -”

“But where’s the fun in that -”

He does it so easily, sending that deep thrum of pleasure slowly curling inside her again, still just a little oversensitive, that feeling where she just knows she’s going to be the good kind of sore later.

"You're impossible," he says affectionately, leaning down to kiss her. He rolls his hips back, slowly, sliding out until just the head of his cock is still inside her, a grin curling his lips. "And if I'm boring you, we could always stop."

“You wouldn’t.” Natasha tips her head up subtly, licking over her lips, but what her eyes say as she keeps them fixed on him is, ‘as if you’d _dare_ ’.

He holds her gaze, a delighted smirk crossing his face as he thrusts into her shallowly, always drawing back again, nearly pulling out completely. "I could," he asserts, good-naturedly, grinning all over his face, and God, he is _infuriating_ in the best way. "But maybe fucking Captain America isn't all it's cracked up to be?"

He's enjoying this entirely too much, but, to be perfectly honest, so is she.

“Mh, yeah, I don’t know. I mean he _is_ starting to get old and that famed stamina might be fading into the realm of myth… Certainly feels like it right now.”

" _Old_?"

“Ah, yes, you know, that stage where the woman needs to look for other sources of relief because he can’t get through two full rounds anymore without a break -”

His mouth drops open, a comical look of shock on his face.

“Sounds to _me_ -”

He snaps his hips down, once, grinding them together, and his fingers tighten gently on her wrists, pulling at her arms until she has to arch her back for him, a smile curling over her lips.

“Like maybe you just need to be _reminded_ -”

James speeds his hips with a laugh, fucking into her at a fast, fluid pace, slowing only to press a kiss to her lips.

“Like I was gonna leave you hanging, c'mon -”

“I know you wouldn’t,” she breathes out against his lips, harshly, because his thrusts are spot on now, making everything curl tight in her insides. “And don’t worry… fucking Captain America is _everything_ it’s cracked up to be.”

James pushes closer to her, tightening his thrusts into small, controlled jerks of his hips, buried deeply inside her and hitting her most sensitive places again and again. He nuzzles her neck, and she feels more than hears the next huff of a laugh. He sounds so pleased with himself, oh god, the curve of a wicked grin sharp against her throat.

"Yeah?"

She _wants_ to continue this verbal play between them, she does, but he’s moving so perfectly, so accurately that Natasha feels her words leave her. And she lets them, replaced only with a tight moan, her body arching up against him, muscles locking everywhere in her body.

James lets out a whine, burying his face in her hair. “Come on, beautiful, let me -”

His voice trails off too, the motion of his hips getting erratic, but his words go through her whole body like a heatwave. Every movement pushes her just a little higher, her body dancing on that brink for a few beautiful moments that are so intense they border on painful. And finally, _finally_ she comes again, long and drawn out this time, forceful enough that she has no way to keep in the rough cry that it forces from her.

“Tasha -” He gasps against her neck, his head dropping onto her shoulder as his hips stutter, back tensing as he spills inside her again with a rough, quiet groan.

“Christ, that's -” James mumbles, shivering slightly, dusting light, lazy kisses over her throat, her jaw, her cheek. He shushes her softly, immediately curling in closer to her. Natasha just lets out a shuddering breath, but it ends with a whimper, small aftershocks still going through her and making her twitch. Her arms come down, hands still wrapped in his shirt, and she just folds them around his neck, unable to do anything else for now.

He eases her knee off his shoulder carefully, still nuzzling at her gently, pressing kisses to her forehead. But he doesn't move beyond that, staying seated inside her for several more long moments, resting against her and humming happily.

“Good God,” Natasha finally breathes out, ending in a soft huff. She blinks at him, lips curling into a loose, wry smile. “That felt like you really did have something to prove here.”

He laughs brightly, tipping his face up to kiss her. “Feels like I proved it, too.”

“Oh, you did.”

She kisses him back with a smile, lazily brushing her sock-clad foot along his calf, her whole body feeling heavy. They kiss quietly for a while, trading smiles and little caresses, until finally James speaks again.

"Does it make me the worst sort of person if I say sandwich first?"

Natasha lets out a soft, amused sound and reaches up to flick at his ear. “You don’t get any sandwiches as long as you haven’t gotten me a washcloth. I’m not going to get up dripping all over the place.”

“Ow -” He grins at her, open and affectionate, and leans down to kiss her temple. "Sit tight then, m'gonna go get you one and get out of this thing."

She hisses a little, quietly, when he pulls out of her, that delicious soreness already settling into her muscles, but shoos him off and simply tilts her hips up as she waits, not quite feeling like moving yet. Her head rolls comfortably to the side and she catches sight of Liho, who, now that the commotion is over, peeks out curiously from behind the kitchen cabinets again.

Natasha laughs quietly to herself.

“You’re a clever little thing.”

James returns a few minutes later, stripped out of his uniform and only in a clean pair of sweats that are hanging low on his hips. He settles back onto the couch, comfortably on his stomach between her thighs, and cleans her up slowly with the warm, damp cloth he's brought with him.

"Doing okay?" He nuzzles at her thigh gently, pressing soft kisses over the edge of her socks.

Natasha hums out a wordless reply. The warm cloth feels good on her skin, and he’s infinitely gentle with it; everything taken into consideration, she actually feels a little drowsy now, the perfect, boneless kind of relaxed. But eventually she still finally pushes herself up just enough to pull on his shirt again.

“Sandwich fingers?”

He shifts up her body to kiss her, gentle and quiet.

"Make you a deal," he offers, kissing her again. "Free ride to bed, if you let me make a stop in the kitchen to make my own?"

“Your own?” She huffs out a soft, indulgent laugh and gives him a look. “I made a plate for you, silly. I’ll still take the ride, though.”

"Don't deserve you," James smiles, kissing the top of her head and pushing himself up. He crouches near the couch, giving her time to ease up before climbing onto his back and arranging her arms around his neck. He takes her weight easily, looping his arms under her knees, and walks them both through the doorway to the kitchen.

"If this is what I get for proposing, would've done it forever ago," he chuckles, opening the refrigerator.

“As if that changed anything,” Natasha replies dryly. But the edge is taken off by the way she’s pillowed her head on the back of his neck, holding herself up with mostly her legs pinned securely to his hips while he gets out the plate she stored in the fridge earlier. “I want one salmon and one walnut cream cheese.”

"You got it," he replies, snagging the half empty carton of orange juice and taking a drink. "The rest of these are for me? Really?"

Natasha rolls her eyes to herself, smiling serenely. “You _could_ leave some for breakfast.”

He takes another gulp of juice, and then replaces the carton, nudging the refrigerator closed.

" _Or_ I could make you eggs for breakfast," he steps out of the kitchen, nudging Liho with his foot to lead the way. "'Cause I'm hungry now, you made me work hard."

“You made yourself work hard,” she smirks, but concedes silently that maybe they both did.

They retreat to the bed like this, with a plate full of sandwich fingers and a black kitten on their heels, and Natasha curls up happily on the sheets and eats. And she watches him and smiles to herself, thinking she got pretty damn lucky after all.


End file.
